


Touch

by HollowPitcher



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Non-Sexual Touching, non-consensual non-sexual touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowPitcher/pseuds/HollowPitcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Drap Strip came online disoriented and with a flurry of warnings clouding his HUD."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2013. Will probably revamp it at some point. This was written before I started using gender-neutral pronouns for most TF's.  
> Prompt: Drag Strip/Superion/touch

Drap Strip came online disoriented and with a flurry of warnings clouding his HUD. The world felt like it was moving beneath him and he clutched at the ground to hold himself steady. Only to hit metal rather than the soft dirt he was expecting. It was then he realized he _was_ moving. No, not just moving: being lifted into the air by something. He squinted blearily at the metal in front of his face and made out a joint. He followed the connected piece of metal down until it joined up with a larger sheet and it was about there he realized he was in a hand. A combiner, then. It wasn't his own team; they were scattered across North America doing much the same as he had been: scouting out energy-rich locations for Lord Megatron. He'd gone off-road to approach the power plant in question from a less obvious angle. The last thing he remembered was contemplating transforming and approaching on foot - even with the force field it was uncomfortable at best tearing across the uneven forest ground with a suspension system only suited for the race track - then... nothing.

Drag Strip realized he'd stopped moving. He was uncomfortably far from the ground, if his just rebooted sensors were to be trusted, but the hand was holding steady, giving Drag Strip time to sort through the bevy of damage alerts. None of it was serious - his forcefield had made sure of that - but it was extensive. Compressed lines, pinched wires, and dented metal all lead to one conclusion and Drag Strip felt the indignation rise as he lifted his eyes to meet the giant's steady gaze, forgetting to be afraid.

"Did you just _step_ on me?"

Superion just continued his quiet contemplation of the race car, expression not changing at Drag Strip's outburst. Drag Strip shifted uncomfortably and wondered if he wasn't the only one to have his processor scrambled recently. The jet-comprised combiner could normally be described as volatile at best, attacking Decepticons on the battlefield with an unmatched fury. Drag Strip could recall a couple times where even the Autobots had seemed to struggle to control their single-minded teammate. But now he was just standing there, mutely observing his captive. Drag Strip stared back, still flat on his back and feeling faintly ridiculous. The rush of fluids coursing through the lines in the hand beneath him could be heard beneath the wind and the sounds of the organic creatures filling the forest around them. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, nothing interrupted the peaceful calm that had fallen over the area, and Drag Strip was becoming more and more annoyed. Was this fragger just going to hold him all day? He had things to do, dammit!

"Hey, what are you even- whoa!"

As if Drag Strip's words were some sort of signal, prompting Superion into breaking his uncharacteristic stillness, the combiner finally moved, lifting his other hand toward the one that held the race car. Drag Strip eyed the oversized hand nervously. His forcefield would protect him to some extent, but the combiner could still do him considerable damage if he attacked. He stayed still, not wanting to do anything to provoke Superion as the Autobot extended a finger and brought it down on Drag Strip's shoulder wheels. He let it rest there a moment, with enough pressure Drag Strip couldn't easily have shifted out from under it - not that he dared try it - but not enough to cause even the mildest damage, then began to slowly drag the finger down Drag Strip's arm, eventually coming to rest on top on his hand, which looked ludicrously small in comparison with the giant finger. Superion held still for a moment, then lifted the finger and brought it down on Drag Strip's other shoulder. Drag Strip watched, faintly bewildered, as the giant repeated the slow stroke down his arm to his hand. Vector Sigma, what was wrong with this guy?

The finger rested on a hand for a moment as before, and Drag Strip waited for it to move to another part of his body to stroke. Did the combiner just have a race car fetish? Well, it was pretty understandable - Drag Strip couldn't fault the giant for being enthralled by his clearly superior alt mode - but did he have to indulge when Drag Strip was in the middle of a mission?

Drag Strip's attention was brought back to his hand by a firm tap. He glanced between it and Superion's face, but the giant's expression didn't give any clues as to what was going through his mind. The tap was repeated, harder this time, and Drag Strip snatched his hand back. This had officially reached a level of weird he was uncomfortable with. He twisted around to look at the ground, calculating his chances if he jumped. The fall wouldn't hurt him, but the ground here was fairly soft and if he got stuck the Autobot may just grab him again. He was already at a disadvantage for speed due to his smaller size. On the open road he could outrace anyone, but in the forest, with organic muck covering everything, it was almost a better idea to stay in root mode until he was far enough away, to make it easier to cross the uneven and unsteady ground. Maybe if he shot Superion in the optics before jumping it would be enough of a distraction to give him a head start.

Drag Strip was jerked away from his thoughts - and the edge of the hand he'd been looking over - by a sharp tug on his leg. He looked down to see Superion had his foot grasped between finger and thumb. Drag Strip tugged experimentally on the limb but the combiner's grip was sure. The other three fingers uncurled and rested on his body, only reaching as high as his waist. They rested there for a moment, then were slowly dragged, somewhat clumsily, down Drag Strip's body. The giant wasn't causing enough damage for the forcefield to repel him, but Drag Strip winced as the oversized fingers scraped over his pelvis.

"Hey, watch the finish!" He may not be as particular about his looks as Dead End, but he still didn't want to go back to base all scratched up.

The giant paused, then the fingers continued their slow descent, no more gently than before.

"Yeesh! Do you have some wires crossed in your processor or something?" Drag Strip sat up and pushed ineffectively at the fingers, not budging them at all, as they left long but shallow scrapes down the finish on his thigh. When they reached his foot the hand lifted entirely, finally releasing the grip on the other foot. Drag Strip didn't have time to react before the hand came down again, opened flat this time, sandwiching his body against the lower hand. He managed to shift his head over enough to avoid his face being covered by the end of the middle finger, but his one arm was pinned across his chest. It pulled painfully at his shoulder, and he kicked his lower legs where they hung over the edge of the hand, hoping to get enough momentum to shift to a more comfortable position. He didn't manage to move so much as an inch. Drag Strip considering expanding his forcefield manually to give himself some room to move - it weakened a bit the farther he pushed it out from his body, but it'd have no trouble holding up the heavy hand. Unless, of course, the friendly giant decided he was done playing around before Drag Strip managed to struggle free. Flat on his back and already in hand, it'd be a pretty short battle, with or without a forcefield.

And now the hands were moving again. Not petting this time, just... Drag Strip felt himself shift sideways and realized what was going on. The damn bot was flipping him over. Now on his front, arm still trapped painfully between his torso and Superion's hand, Drag Strip had had enough. As soon as the hand covering him was removed he was out of there. There was no way he was putting up with being treated like some sort of toy for any longer. The hand on top lifted and Drag Strip tensed, waiting for it to descend for another slow stroke down his body. Once it reached his feet he'd jump free, transform in mid-air, and take off as fast as he could, his undercarriage be damned. But instead of the firm pressure he was expecting on his back, fingers curled around his waist - "Hey, what are you-!" - and he was lifted out of the palm he'd been laying on. Before he could reach for his gun - his arms finally free - the hand holding him began to descend. Was Superion going to slam him into the ground? Drag Strip ran a quick diagnostic on his forcefield, ensuring it was still up, and braced for the impact. The hand slowed before it hit the ground, however, and Drag Strip was placed more or less gently upon his feet. Then Superion let go.

Confused, but not willing to stick around and wait for his good luck to run out, Drag Strip transformed and took off, dodging trees and ignoring the effect the forest floor was having on his undercarriage. He was within hearing distance of the road at the edge of the forest before he chanced a look back. There were no signs of the combiner. He briefly debated trying to find another spot to approach the power plant from, then decisively continued on to the road. He'd head back to base and report there were Autobots in the area. Hopefully Megatron would decide to attack; after the day he'd had nothing would make it better like a proper battle and a chance to show some Autobots how superior he really was. And if he stuck a little closer to his teammates than usual, well, no one would have to know why.


End file.
